


Unlearning (or, the windstorm that accidentally changed Arthur's entire world view in ten seconds flat)

by Opora



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Gen, M/M, Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), arthur is more observant than he lets on, best friends or boyfriends? that's up to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opora/pseuds/Opora
Summary: Let's pretend for just a second that Arthur isn't willfully oblivious. Here are a few moments in the days following the return from Ealdor (S1E10), during which Arthur must reckon with the fact that when given the choice between his idiotic, loudmouth manservant, and everything he has always known to be true, just, and good...he will choose Merlin every time.As usual for me, there isn't really a plot, or any transitions, or really any sort of resolution. Just a bunch of little moments strung together pretending to be a story.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 191





	Unlearning (or, the windstorm that accidentally changed Arthur's entire world view in ten seconds flat)

The journey home from Ealdor was long and quiet. Everyone was deep in their own thoughts. When they finally stopped to camp for the night, everyone turned over to sleep almost immediately, nobody feeling quite up the camaraderie they all so desperately needed.

Arthur was lying on his back looking at the stars. He turned his head toward Merlin, only to see that Merlin was just as wide awake as he was. Arthur pushed himself up on his elbow and whispered Merin’s name to get his attention. He had never seen such raw emotion in his servant before. He suddenly felt out of his depth. Smirks, eye rolls, and sarcastic remarks he could handle, but this was something new. He forged ahead anyways.

“You know, if you had been the one to conjure the windstorm…”

Merlin let out a low grunt, which Arthur took to mean he was listening, even though nothing else gave that indication.

“...your secret would be safe with me,” he continued, and after a brief pause, he added, “You’d be safe with me.”

Merlin lifted his eyes slightly to meet Arthur’s and Arthur wished that his eyes could say everything that his lips didn’t know how. That he would sooner die himself than see Merlin executed at the hands of Uther. That he still trusted him more than he had ever trusted anyone else before--probably more than he should, certainly more than he’d ever trusted a servant-- and his opinion of him (his real opinion, not the one he pretended) hadn’t changed.

But Arthur didn’t know how to say any of that, so instead, he settled for “You know... _if_ it had been you.”

Merlin cracked the smallest smile, accompanied by what Arthur really hoped was not a laugh. “Right. Goodnight, sire.”

\- - -

Arthur was really only half listening to his father. The rest of him was daydreaming about the footwork he’d seen Morgana use when she was fighting. He’d never admit it to her, but she was a natural, and he wanted to try to imitate some of what she had been doing.

“...and, anyways, there is no such thing as an innocent sorcerer. They are unnatural, dirty. Their only proper use is as kindling.”

Arthur’s full attention snapped back to the present. Automatically, without thinking, he glanced at Merlin, but Merlin gave no indication that he had heard Uther’s comment at all. Surely he had to have heard, though. He’s pouring wine in Uther’s goblet. His ear is right next to Uther’s mouth. He couldn’t possibly have missed that. Merlin could be an idiot sometimes, but even he couldn’t be so dense as to miss something like that.

Except that Merlin didn’t appear to have heard the comment Uther made the next day, either, or the one after that. The less phased Merlin seemed to be, the more irate Arthur became.

One afternoon, after a particularly nasty comment, Arthur was walking so fast that Merlin could barely keep up. He didn't care. When they finally made it back to his chambers, Arthur slammed the door with hardly enough time for Merlin to slip through, and immediately began pacing.

“How do you do it? How do you just keep going like that like you can’t hear anything they’re saying? Doesn’t it bother you to hear them say those things about you-” a beat of silence, and Arthur realized what he’d said. He quickly corrected himself: “Your friend. About your friend.”

\- - -

After several nights of sleep that were fitful at best, Arthur couldn’t stand to be in his bed anymore. He left his chambers and found himself in the chapel. He lit a candle, and gingerly dropped to his knees. He wanted to scream and lash out at the god who decreed Merlin was broken. Or maybe he wanted to sob and beg forgiveness for not having done enough to remold the world around where he stood. He wasn’t entirely sure which one would win out, the anger or the helplessness. But instead, he just sat there, without words and without emotion. It could have been hours that he stayed there (motionless, emotionless) or it could have only been a moment. Arthur didn’t know, and he couldn’t find it in him to care. He rose from his knees and returned to his chamber, with maybe too much feeling, or maybe not enough. (What’s the difference, anyways?)

\- - -

The older Arthur grew, and the more responsibility he was given, the more he dared to speak his mind with his father. Despite the increasing regularity of those moments, however, he found that he still always felt like a small child when he addressed his father. No doubt that’s how his father viewed the exchanges, too. Arthur had no more power now as crown prince than he did as a petulant child. His crowning had given him some semblance of power over the people of Camelot, but no amount of ceremony could ever make his father see him as anything more than a child-- just as powerless, and just as indignant.

Merlin tried his best to lighten the mood as he got Arthur ready for bed, but Arthur couldn’t muster the energy for banter, and so eventually the two fell into a practiced silence as they went about the familiar routine until Arthur finally dismissed Merlin for the night. Merlin had almost reached the door, but hesitated before turning around slowly and awkwardly addressing Arthur.

“I know Will would have really appreciated what you said in council today. That was very noble of you.”

“Well, it doesn’t make any difference, does it? Not to Uther and certainly not to-- Will.”

“It does to me.”

\- - -

The wood has been stacked and Merlin is being brought and they’re going to burn him and the entire royal court is here and they are all going to watch Merlin burn and nobody has said anything in his defense, Arthur hasn’t said anything, why hasn’t he said anything, why won’t he just open his mouth and _say something_ , they have Merlin and they’re going to _burn him_ and he won’t even open his miserable little mouth, and oh god they’re lighting the torch and why can’t he just open his mouth and say anything, _anything_ \--

Arthur jolted awake and nearly collapsed with relief to see Merlin’s slightly amused, highly impertinent face staring back at him.

“I think you were having a nightmare.”

“Merlin, swear to me you will tell no one.”

“Don’t worry, sire, I wasn’t planning on telling anyone about your little nightmare. I mean, honestly I don’t think its all that big a deal, but if its important to you--”

“Merlin. _No one_.”

Something in Arthur’s voice must have given him away, because Merlin shut his mouth (wonder of all wonders) and brought his eyes to meet Arthur’s before saying, “I swear.”


End file.
